


Trifles

by SylvanFreckles



Series: Twelve Days of Fictmas 2020 [6]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, No season 2 spoilers, just short and fluffy, like my cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28161129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanFreckles/pseuds/SylvanFreckles
Summary: A rare short, peaceful moment for man and child.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Series: Twelve Days of Fictmas 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055069
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Trifles

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last week, so there are no spoilers for episode 16. I never thought I would write anything for this show, but here we are!

The pale green Rodian gestured wildly between the _Razor Crest_ and the darkened terminal in front of him, his voice rising higher and higher in pitch.

“I get it, all right?” Din held one hand up, letting frustration bleed through his voice. “Port's closed until morning.”

The Rodian made a satisfied sound and spun away, muttering insults at the Mandalorian over his shoulder.

“Great,” Din rolled his shoulders and glanced down at his side. “Looks like we're grounded until morning, Kid.”

The kid looked up at him curiously, blinking dark eyes and making an inquisitive sound from where he hung against Din's hip.

“You're probably hungry by now,” Din guessed. There was food on the ship, but it wouldn't hurt to take the kid out to the market. Get something fresh. He'd seen vendors setting up in colorful booths when he was finalizing the order for a few parts they needed for the _Razor Crest_ , but he hadn't thought the locals would shut down the port. “All right, we're going.”

He eased the carrysack around a little so the kid could see better. Dusk was falling, and colorful paper lanterns were being strung up between the booths. He glanced down at the interrogative noise at his side. “No, I don't know what they're celebrating, either,” he replied. Of course he had no way of knowing if that was the kid's question, but the kid seemed satisfied at that answer.

They followed the sounds of sizzling meat to another branch of the market that was lined with food stalls. Din hadn't figured out if there was anything the kid _couldn't_ eat, but they were usually pretty safe with humanoid-standard foods.

There were human customers gathered at one of the booths, so Din gradually wove his way over there. The vendor looked something like a Mon Calamari, but with a more pronounced beak and a frill around its head. They garbled at Din in an unfamiliar language, and when the Mandalorian held his hands out and shrugged the vendor pointed up at the sign above their stall.

Prices were listed in multiple languages, for a dish that was made out of squid caught in the nearby ocean. Well, that was good enough...the kid liked crawly things and Din had learned a long time ago to eat where and what he could.

“Give me two,” he said, holding up two fingers. The vendor bobbed their head and started piling food into a pair of bio-degradable boxes. There were definitely tentacles, which had been cooked up with some kind of plant stalk and little pieces of fungus. This filled half the box, then the other half was filled with a white, pearly grain. The vendor placed these in a bag, along with a few pieces of thin, pale bread wrapped in waxed paper.

The vendor opened a compartment in the center of the stall, showing off a selection of canned beverages. Din recognized some of the labels—lum, tea, fizzy drinks—but he held a hand up and shook his head. The vendor made an offended sound and slammed the compartment shut before moving down to the end of the stall and scratching out calculations on a scrap of paper. Din rolled his eyes, figuring they were about to be overcharged for not buying the vendor's high-priced beverages.

Another sound at his hip had him glancing down at the kid, whose wide eyes were fixed on something above Din's head. “What's up?” he asked, following the kid's gaze.

There were bags of candy hanging from the stall's overhead frame. He could tell it was jellied candy, and judging by the tentacles it was probably representative of whatever sea creature made up the main dish.

“No,” he said, automatically. They couldn't afford to waste time or money on things like that. Getting food from the stall was excessive enough when they had perfectly good rations back at the ship. Candy would offer no nutritional value, and he didn't want to see what kind of havoc a sugar-high miniature Jedi could wreak.

The kid's eyes were still staring, big and dark, with the lights of the paper lanterns reflected in them. “Kid...” Din shook his head.

The kid tilted his.

Din let out a sigh. Cara would never let him hear the end of this if she found out.

“Hey,” he tapped the counter to get the vendor's attention, then pointed up at the bags of candy. “One of those, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Next Time: Midnight - "Don't forget, we're here for a mission. Not so you can flirt with the Interpol agent."


End file.
